51. Sloane
Sloane
As I stand outside the coffee shop waiting for my dad to arrive, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I don’t check it. I suspect the boys are reacting to my message, and I want a clear head for what I’m about to do.
A black cab pulls up and my dad steps out with a sneer on his face as he looks at the coffee shop. The ugly expression doesn’t disappear as he lays eyes on me, though he purses his lips.
“Hi,” I say, as neutrally as possible.
“Hello, Sloane,” he says stiffly, eyes narrowing. “No Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee today?”
It takes every ounce of control not to roll my eyes.
“Their names are Freddie and Cole.”
He ignores me and pushes past me into the coffee shop. The waitress seats us in the window, and I turn to face him once we’ve placed our orders.
“Thank you for coming,” I begin. “I want to have a frank and honest conversation.”
“Good,” he says. “I hope that means your childish games are over with.”
I blink and take a long, audible inhale, steeling myself for the next bit.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” I say, and his eyes narrow. “It’s ok. I don’t like you very much either. In fact, it’s mind boggling to me that we are even related.”
His jaw flexes.
“I want to say thank you for the things you have paid for. But let’s be clear. That is all you have done: you have paid for things. And I am grateful. I have a master’s thanks to your money. And I have had a lovely place to live. Despite our differences, I will always be grateful for those things.”
He remains silent so I press on.
“But you are not a dad to me. You never have been. I don’t think you know how to be. And maybe you were never given the chance, I don’t know. But I know this: love should be unconditional. And what exists between us is transactional at best.”
“Is my money not good enough for you anymore, child? Because I can cut you off right?—”
“Actually, I’m cutting you off. I’ll move out of the apartment in the next six weeks. The final payment to my university has gone through. You can be free of me. And we can part ways forever.”
He says nothing. He just stares at me angrily.
“My last offer is this: please leave Freddie’s job alone.
He’s really good at what he does. He’s a consummate professional.
If you agree to leave him be, I’ll come to the wedding with Cole and wear the dress and say all the polite things you want me to.
I’ll do that, and then we can go our separate ways.
I’ll never take another penny from you, and we can stop this ongoing cycle of disappointing each other. ”
He’s gone purple again, and I take a moment to congratulate myself again on managing to get all of my points across.
He finally opens his mouth to speak again, just as my gaze snags on a cab pulling up directly outside.
My mouth drops open as Freddie leaps out, eyes wild, as he looks for me.
My own eyes widen as he locks onto my gaze and comes charging into the café.
“Sloane, don’t do it.”
I look at him in confusion as Cole appears behind him, anxiety all over his face. My father’s mouth twists into an angry line, something ugly and victorious in his expression.
“Oh look, it’s little Frederick. You really have a career death wish, don’t you, boy?”
“Shut up, Quentin,” Freddie says, without looking at him. “Don’t sacrifice yourself for me,” he pleads.
“Freddie, I’m in the middle of something here. Can you give me a minute?” I say, trying to remain patient.
“I love you,” he breathes out, and my heart stutters in my chest. “Cole loves you. We’re both in love with you. You can’t go back to America.”
What the fuck is happening right now?
“Er, what the fuck are you talking about?” I frown, looking to Cole for reason or logic.
“You’re not… breaking up with us? You’re not… going back to New York?”
“No?” I reply. “Can you guys please just give me a minute?” I look desperately at Cole, who nods, and drags Freddie outside by the elbow, but not in time to stop Freddie from delivering one last parting shot to dear old dad.
“You can go fuck yourself, Quentin. You don’t deserve a second of her time.”
“Kiss your job goodbye, Frederick,” Quentin says, ice in his tone, as my heart plummets. My sweet boy has just set fire to the olive branch that was my final plea.
“It’s Freddie, actually. Just Freddie. My mum’s not a posh cunt. She liked ‘Freddie’ just fine.”
There’s a beat of silence after Freddie finally leaves and my dad just glares at me.
“What a humiliating little performance,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee before wrinkling his nose. “I’ll speak to my solicitor and you can move out in the next few weeks. This little tantrum will devastate Aggie. Especially after she went to all the trouble of buying you a dress.”
“Well, I’m happy to return it.”
He stands.
“I never wanted a child, you know. You were a mistake. An accident. I never understood why your mother didn’t go through with the abortion. But here you are. I hope you’re happy with your life choices, Sloane.” He shakes his head and then exits the café without a backwards glance.
I blow out a big breath and then stand, paying the bill on the way out. I’ve barely made it back out onto the street when Freddie comes barrelling out of a side street and crushes me to his body.
“I’m so sorry, princess,” he says into my hair. “I might have… misinterpreted the situation and, er… overreacted.”
“You think?” I reply, giving him an appraising look as he pulls back. “What exactly did you think was happening?”
“I thought you were going to grovel at his feet and offer to break up with us to protect my career,” he says. “Then Cole said you might flee the country and?—”
“Hey, that’s not what I?—”
“And I got a bit… panicked.”
I purse my lips. His hair is wild, the curls all over the place as if he’s run his hands through it over and over again. He also appears to be wearing Cole’s clothes, given how tight the t-shirt is across his abs. Not that I’m complaining about that.
“Can we take a beat?” I say, pulling him over to a nearby bench and pushing him to sit. He nods.
“I wanted to do this alone because I was telling him that I’m cutting him off.
I’m no longer taking his money. Which means I’m about to be homeless, and I really, really, need a job.
It’s been a long time coming, and I wanted to do this for myself, on my own terms. I also thought cutting myself out of his life would remove the temptation for him to go nuclear with your job as long as I agreed to go to the wedding and behave myself. ”
“Ah. And I just…”
“Yeah.”
“ Shit .”
There’s a beat where none of us says anything.
There’s a very real chance Freddie’s just lost his job.
The influence my dad carries in certain circles is huge.
I see the realisation in his eyes just as he buries his head in his hands.
I don’t really know what to say, so I just rub soothing circles on his back as he processes the situation.
Finally, he lifts his head and looks at me properly. His eyes are shining as I cup his face in my palm.
“I really fucked up, didn’t I?” It comes out as a whisper.
“It might be fixable?” I reply, though I don’t sound very convinced. “But if not, maybe we can both move in with Cole and he can be our sugar daddy?”
“I’m game.” Freddie waggles his eyebrows at Cole and the tension breaks like a wave. We’ll have to face what happened at some point, but the adrenaline of the last hour has scrambled my brain.
“Can we go home? I’d really like to just snuggle up with you both and stick a shit film on before we deal with the fallout with Freddie’s job and my imminent homelessness.”
“Yes, please.”
Cole pulls me into standing, and I spot a cab approaching on the other side of the road.
“Quick, there’s a cab coming,” I say, tugging the boys towards the road. “If we run, we can?—”
I don’t finish the sentence because there’s a screech of tyres, a scream, and everything goes black.